Breakdown
by Aqua Lion
Summary: A series of ficlets about Pidge and Vince's relationship, and the transfer of Green Lion. Because nothing's ever really as easy as it looks.
1. Admiring

**Breakdown: Admiring**

_This is really more a collection of short companion pieces than a single fic, but posting everything separately seemed awfully silly. This one takes place after Gary._

* * *

Vince woke up late to the party.

Oh, boy, did he ever.

By the time he'd figured out what was going on, his cute little holo-pet had been flinging boulders and smashing Voltron. Okay, not exactly the congratulations he'd hoped for after beating the game's toughest challenge ever.

That scenario really had been hard, too!

So, lesson learned. No more pulling all-nighters and downloading strange holograms. Or at least, if he ever did it again, he'd know not to immediately conk out and leave the cuddly little delinquent to its own devices...

_No, no. Not gonna do it again_.

Daniel wasn't going to let him forget _this_ time, in any case, and Keith had assigned him extra patrols to teach him a lesson about caution or something. But neither his roommate's harassment nor his commander's annoyance were what really stung. It was who else he'd let down.

Even if Pidge wouldn't admit it, Vince _knew_ he'd let him down. And that... that was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

Sometimes he still wondered how he'd reached this point. He'd always idolized the Green Lion pilot, even years ago on the playground when all his classmates wanted to be Keith or Lance. It didn't feel real even now... flying with his childhood hero, fighting beside him. And most importantly realizing, sometimes to his own surprise, that Pidge wasn't just a hero—he was human.

...Well, he wasn't actually _human_ human, but anyway.

Vince watched the others. Knew what was going on there. Keith and Lance were harsh with Daniel, constantly reminding him that he was still just a cadet. Allura could be just as hard on Larmina, demanding she uphold her royal duty. But Pidge was different...

Shouldn't he feel threatened? Annoyed by the little snart who stumbled around cluelessly, his powers unlocking things by _accident_ when the team's resident genius had studied them for years without success. Wary because Vince was feeling a bond with Green Lion, moving in on his territory. He should hate him, shouldn't he? That would be logical.

But no. Pidge was so patient, accepting. Treated him as an equal. Believed in him when he didn't believe in himself, when he didn't deserve it.

And how did Vince constantly repay him? By hurting him. Over and over. Betraying his trust on the mission near Poseidus? Pidge had shrugged it off, claimed to understand why he'd acted as he had. Questioning his combat skills on Balto? No big deal, just laughed it away and waited for a chance to prove otherwise.

And here they were again.

He knew Pidge blamed himself for Gary, and that was ridiculous. How could it be his fault? Sure, it was his game, but he wasn't the one who'd gone downloading robeasts out of it. If it weren't for Vince, the game wouldn't have been a way into the castle. That was a fact, the only fact that really mattered, and yet... he wouldn't blame the one who'd really screwed up. Which only seemed to make the guilt worse.

And maybe there was a tiny hint of paranoia in the midst of the remorse. A fear that the swift reassurances from his mentor weren't forgiveness at all, but just a dismissive disinterest in dealing with it. He didn't want to have sparked that sort of distance...

With no conscious effort, Vince found his way to Pidge's workshop.

It wasn't empty, of course. "Vince! Morning."

"Hey, Pidge." The only reason he could look at him was that Pidge wasn't looking back, focused fully on the consoles in front of him. "What're you up to?"

"Fixing the game. I found the security hole Maahox used to put Gary in." Frown. "Wasn't that hard, really... I kind of slacked off on the security updates once Wade went down. Never even thought about _Lotor_ using it against us." His eyes were furious, but his voice was so calm. Matter of fact. He may as well have been discussing the weather. "Unacceptable, really."

Vince grimaced. "I'm sorry—"

"—Oh, cut that out. Not your fault I got lazy." Pidge looked up at him. "Are you here to try to blame yourself again?"

Didn't take him long, did it? "Maybe."

Sigh. "C'mon, Vince. We've been through this... how could you have known? Blaming yourself is completely illogical. Patching security holes in the game? My job. Not yours. All you should have to be worried about is _playing_ the game, without having to be paranoid that every new feature is a Doom attack. So why keep saying it's your fault?"

"I... I don't know. It's hard to believe that, you know? Here I am trying to help, and I end up letting that thing loose..." He hesitated a moment, then decided to go on and forge ahead. Really, when Pidge got that curious spark in his eyes, there was nothing to do _but_ keep talking, because he wouldn't stop digging until he got his answers. "And now you're kicking yourself over it, and you shouldn't! I gave them the opening to use your game as a weapon. And then it feels like—almost like you're blowing me off when you say you're not upset with me, because I'm so convinced you've _got_ to be..."

Silence for a few moments. Nervousness gripped him as the emerald eyes locked on him glinted with bemusement. Maybe he'd said too much there? Discussing _feelings_ was not exactly their usual social track. Did hyperlogical ninja scientists even talk about that sort of stuff?

"...Okay, fair enough. Let's talk about what I'm upset about, then." Pidge's gaze suddenly sharpened, and with that came an odd sense of relief. Vince braced for the worst. "Where did I go wrong, Vince, that had you thinking I designed that horrific abomination? My sense of aesthetics is definitely not that bad!"

_Wait, what? _That wasn't what he'd been bracing for at all._ Horrific abomination? ...Oh. Hang on a minute..._ "Uh. I actually thought it was pretty cute."

"You what?" He slapped a palm to his forehead. "Please tell me you're kidding."

Vince hesitated. Now that he thought about it, Pidge hadn't really gotten to see Gary until it was a hundred feet tall and breaking the castle in half. Which had been decidedly less cute. "It wasn't so bad when I downloaded it! I mean, it was all chubby and big-eyed and floppy-eared and _not_ a psychotic menace..." The look on his companion's face was getting progressively more skeptical. "Oh stop looking at me like that. What do _you_ think is cute?"

Pidge glared. It was a playful glare, but still definitely a glare. "That's not relevant."

"Oh come on. If you're gonna diss my standards of cute, yours are _definitely_ relevant. So let's hear it." Crossing his arms, Vince tried to glare right back, but found himself having some trouble not bursting into laughter. "And God help you if you name anything chubby, big-eyed, or floppy-eared!"

"Hardly!" And with that Pidge, pilot of the Green Lion, hero of the galaxy, Vince's own personal idol, looked at him and stuck out his tongue.

Holding back laughter became a lost cause. Maybe it was okay. Maybe Pidge really meant it. He wasn't angry, he was just himself. Letting things slide, laughing it off rather than holding grudges. He was... _awesome_. Grinning broadly, Vince leaned over his shoulder to watch him work.

"I like bats."

It took a moment for Vince to put that comment into context—his mind had moved away from the subject, convinced he wasn't going to get an answer. "...Bats."

"Bats."

"_Bats_."

Frown. "I'm sensing disagreement."

_Yeah, I would hope so._ "Now _you're_ kidding."

"What's wrong with bats?"

"What _isn't_ wrong with bats? They're all toothy and screechy and flappy and—"

"—Fuzzy."

..._Um_. Vince considered that, looking for a proper response, not really finding anything that seemed to fit. "Pardon?"

"They're fuzzy animals." Pidge looked up from the consoles again, eyes glinting, daring the cadet to keep arguing with him. But if Vince knew anything, it was when to back off from a battle.

_Bats are fuzzy animals. Sure. Why not?_ He grinned, the whole world suddenly a little lighter.

Pidge really did just get more and more awesome.


	2. Failing

**Breakdown: Failing**

_Takes place immediately after I, Voltron._

* * *

Vince woke up in the rec room.

He had no idea what time it was. Nor did he have any idea what time it had been when sleep had claimed him, for that matter—he certainly hadn't planned on passing out here, but it had been one heck of a day, hadn't it? Having to fight a battle inside of Daniel's _brain_... it was absurd. Still unbelievable.

Daniel was being held in the medical wing for observation. He'd started to protest rather loudly, but Keith was in no mood to hear protests, and sometimes even Daniel knew when to shut up rather than digging himself a deeper hole. Discretion might not be the better part of valor for him, but it _was_ a component.

_Hey, Daniel? You there?_

No response. Presumably that meant his friend was asleep, and secretly he was rather pleased with that. No doubt the telepathic link would have its uses later on, but right now it was... weird.

That was really the only word for it. Weird.

Rising from the couch and stretching, Vince wondered why nobody had tried to wake him. Or even carried him back to his room, Hunk had actually done that a few times before, when he'd found the cadet keeled over in the hangar from too much work on some project or another. The big engineer was always quite cheerful about it.

"No big deal, don't worry. I haul Pidge to his room like this all the time. Part of the job!"

That revelation had made Vince much happier than he'd cared to admit. Even if it was something silly like falling asleep in the hangar, _any_ comparison to Pidge sent a thrill of pride through him...

_Cut that out_, he scolded himself, now that he was certain Daniel wasn't awake to hear his thoughts. _Gush over minor comparisons to your hero later. Go do something productive now, since you crashed in the rec room instead of doing something productive earlier_.

Something productive...

Well, he still needed to run some tests on that mind-link device. Make sure every fragment of Daniel's consciousness was free, make sure there weren't any lingering links between the device and the two who'd been battling within it. And then he was going to get rid of the stupid thing. He'd learned his lesson there. Mind-link tech was a quick road to trouble, and he wasn't going to touch that _ever_ again.

Almost as an afterthought, he checked his voltcom for the time. Three in the morning. That wasn't so bad. He could just call it getting an early start... looking around, he found the slim metal disc on the floor next to the couch. Precisely where he had, presumably, left it.

Time to close this miserable little chapter.

The hangar was not empty. A slim figure in green was sitting on a rusted-out crate, typing madly on one holographic panel while facing a second. Vince's eyes lit up. He'd not expected to find anyone here, but it was a very pleasant surprise.

"Hey, Pidge!"

Rather than raising, the emerald eyes lowered slightly, probably checking the time himself. Then he looked to Vince. "Morning, Vince." His tone was wary, almost distant. "What're you doing here?"

Well, it _was_ three in the morning. "I, uh, woke up early, guess I zonked out in the rec room after all the excitement yesterday. Thought I'd come try to get some stuff done." He held up the device he'd come to work with. "Uh, do you think maybe you could help me with this? I need to..."

It wasn't the way Pidge's eyes narrowed that caused Vince to swallow his words. It was the way those eyes went _cold_. He didn't speak. Just watched, letting the ice build between them, waiting in deadly, looming silence.

Vince had never felt anything like this before—his chest seizing up on him, his body seeming to wither around his rapidly pounding heart. No, that wasn't true. He'd felt it. Of course he'd felt it. So many moments, so long ago, when he was so very young... his parents had been able to evoke this in him when he'd misbehaved, with harsh words or threats of punishment.

Pidge had sparked it with a _look_.

"Uh... Pidge?" he mumbled with difficulty, his mouth suddenly very dry.

"So _now_ you want my help, hmm?" His voice was light, but deliberately, painfully so.

Vince went tense. Every inch of his body was coiled tight, instinctively aware of what his mind couldn't yet force him to accept. This wasn't like the other times. This time... he was in _trouble_. "I... yeah. I just want to make sure it's safe to, uh, dispose of. You know. Caused a lot of trouble."

"Yes, it did," Pidge agreed calmly.

Danger. All his senses were screaming of danger. That look... that tone... but somehow it was pulling him in, freezing him in place when all his instincts were to run. He couldn't run from this mess anyway, could he? Much as he might have liked to. "So, uh. Can you...?"

"Leave it." The green-suited pilot nodded to one of the work tables. "I'll have a look when I'm not busy. No rush, is there? Since you've certainly learned better than to try to activate it again."

Oh. Well. That wasn't what he'd been going for at all... the idea grated for some reason. It was his project, his mistake, and he ought to fix it. He _needed_ to fix it. "I, um... I was actually thinking..." He trailed off, as the emerald gaze locked on him became harsher with each word.

"Were you?" Pidge asked when it became clear the cadet had gone silent for good. His tone was still so _light_, but somehow that fact was more ominous than comforting. "Well, I suppose better late than never."

_Ouch_. The words stabbed deep. Too deep...

"I... Pidge, I..." He swallowed against the dryness in his throat, he had to get this out, to try to explain himself, try to justify... "I just—I just wanted to prove... that I could do something on my own, and I thought my powers would help..."

"I'm sure you did." Pidge's eyes narrowed. "Because it's usually that simple, right? Even _you_ don't know everything about how your powers work yet, Vince. They've bailed us out before, and that's a good start, but do you really think that gives you the right to treat Voltron like some Academy science project?" Still calm. Why was he so calm? Why couldn't he yell? If only he would yell maybe Vince could dredge up a little indignation, a little bit of fight or flight reflex, a little bit of _anything_ to spark himself and get out of here...

Instead he was stuck trying to defend the indefensible, deny the truth. "N-n-n... no... I didn't mean it like that, I just..." Struggling for words. No, he hadn't been thinking, but he'd had a goal, and it hadn't been so selfish, had it?

Pidge didn't seem inclined to let him sort himself out. "You just _what_, Vince?"

"I just... I just wanted to prove I could help the team!"

"Really? I wasn't aware we were questioning that." For the first time, a flicker of fire surged in his eyes, through the cold venom. "But let's say we were. You tried to prove it by... forgetting what being part of a _team_ means to begin with? Mission unaccomplished."

He stammered. More. "I didn't—no! I just..."

The fire was gone, icy contempt reigning in Pidge's gaze again. "There's more to being part of this team than skill or powers, Vince. Granted Daniel hasn't figured that one out yet, but I expect better than that nonsense from _you_."

Oh, _that_ had been a low blow. Low and brutally effective. The response he managed to get out was barely a squeak. "But I—"

"Enough. Go back to bed, Vince." Pidge turned away.

Vince stared, unable to form any more words in his mind, let alone try to speak them. To protest the dismissal, to protest the words... he couldn't do it. He felt like he was five years old again, being scolded for crossing the street without his parents, a child lost and flailing without his betters...

He wouldn't say he left the hangar. That wasn't the right word. He _fled_, the shame coiling in his guts like a frozen serpent, hissing and snapping at his chest with echoes of Pidge's reproach.

_There's more to being part of this team than skill or powers, Vince._

It was true... of course it was true. And it stung all the worse for that fact.

Tomorrow, Vince decided, as he stumbled into bed. Tomorrow he would do this better. He would stand up against that frigid glare, apologize for his stupidity, beg for a chance to make things right. They _had_ to make things right!

But the next day, Pidge simply acted as though it had never happened at all... and Vince certainly wasn't going to bring it up. So he tucked the shame away inside, and let it burn.

He'd known it was inevitable, after all.


	3. Shattering

**Breakdown: Shattering**

_This chapter is derived from the Shelter From the Storm graphic novel. Which, by the way, is awesome, go read it if you still haven't yet. (It also occurs at a timeline point that cannot exist, but for the purposes of this fic that's not too important. Call it immediately prior to Roots of Evil.)_

* * *

Vince woke in a violet fog.

There were bits of scrap scattered around him, plates and bolts and frayed wires thrown across the asphalt he was sprawled on. "What... what happened?" He sat up, shaking his head slowly, trying to clear his mind. What was he doing here? All he could remember was the training exercise... his own miserable performance, Daniel mocking him, the holographic robeast smashing the lions together, Keith's lecture...

Then he remembered the storm rushing in—becoming trapped in the darkness, Green's controls seizing up, communications from the outpost fading into static. Then nothing. "Oh, man..."

Well. First things first, he needed to get back in touch. Or first things first, he needed to figure out where he was. Both at once? He should be able to do two things at once, no doubt, but... priorities... he tapped his voltcom. "Guys? This is Vince. Daniel? Larmina?" They'd been swept up in the storm too, perhaps they were somewhere in this haze. "Do you read me?"

Nothing. Despite his irritation with Daniel, he had to try every option, he knew that... and really, he'd be thrilled to hear even that arrogant voice right now. So he focused his mind. _Daniel?_ But there was no answer there, either.

_Okay then. All alone in spooky evil fog in a street filled with scrap metal. That's a good start. _He gave up on establishing contact, turned to take in as much as he could of his surroundings.

And froze as he saw what had been behind him.

"...No..." The source of the parts scattered around him became terribly clear. Green Lion was curled up on the ground, armor shredded and hanging loosely from its structure, wires and tubing spilling out in a grotesque mockery of a live creature's entrails. The golden eyes were dim.

"No!" Vince staggered back, looked away, shaking his head violently in hopes of forcing the image aside. But it was awfully hard to be in denial when the source of that denial was sitting right in front of him, demolished.

_How...? _The storm must have thrown him off course here—wherever here was—but, the lions were stronger than this. Weren't they? He'd seen them all take some brutal hits. But of course... that depended on a pilot who wasn't, what was the word Daniel had used? Hopeless.

Wasn't Vince.

Wind. The fog around them began to dissipate, revealing the wide street Green was sprawled in. The stars scattered in the blackness above him. The buildings towering at their sides, dark steel and neon lights... strangely silent. Ominous. Vince frowned as he studied the structures, noted the alien script on the signs. He knew this place—this windswept ghost town, this world of perpetual night.

_This looks like Balto_... he swallowed hard at the thought. _Pidge's home planet._

Wait. That made no sense. They'd been doing maneuvers less than a light year from Arus—nowhere near Balto. The storm couldn't have carried him that far. Could it?

Well, the first step would be to get help. If this _was_ Balto, it was a world friendly to Voltron, at least when its inhabitants weren't being zombified. Could be worse. Could be way worse.

_Okay. No idea how I got here still, but... _he looked around, searching for landmarks. _Yes! This isn't far from Chip's apartment._ If he had to try to explain this madness to someone, at least he could find someone he'd actually met. That was a start. He turned from Green's shattered chassis, and for the first time since waking, felt the slightest fragment of hope.

That fragment lasted two steps.

"Where do you think you're going?" The voice was harsh, contemptuous, but Vince didn't really have time to worry about the voice. More pressing was the form that had blurred from the shadows before him, striking him hard in the chest and sending him to the ground. He pulled back, body scraping uncomfortably over small shards of metal, but that was better than taking a followup strike. Except no such strike came. The dark figure standing over him simply stood and glared.

His attacker was a Baltan—a ninja. Ninja scientist, technically. But the 'ninja' part was rather more pronounced at the moment, the chameleon suit revealing nothing of its wearer except the slight, wiry build common to the race. Vince backed off further, desperately wanting to ask why he'd been attacked, but he hadn't gotten his breath back from the first blow.

The dark figure spoke again after a moment anyway, seeming to realize the cadet wasn't going to challenge him. "Running away from the mess you've made?" He reached up, pulling his hood down. Revealing a shock of wild brown hair, sharply vulpine features, and a pair of glasses that could not mask the scorn blazing in the shadow's emerald eyes.

Vince lurched back as far as he could. Unwilling to believe, but there was no mistaking it... "Pidge?"

Pidge's gaze drilled into him. "Green Lion has survived for centuries... possibly _millennia_. It has stood against Drules, robeasts, monsters you can't begin to dream of... but where the blackest gods of this galaxy failed, _you've_ succeeded. You destroyed it!"

_No_. He fought the words, or tried to—the malice in Pidge's voice mocked his efforts, driving through his skin to pierce his soul. And more than the malice, there was the truth. He _couldn't_ deny it, not when Green's shattered hulk was resting behind him, not when his retreat was still being impeded by the debris.

"I didn't—it wasn't my fault!" he protested weakly. "I... couldn't do anything..."

Soft laughter. "Oh, Vince. Wouldn't you like it to be that easy? Of course _you_ couldn't do anything. But your weakness is not an excuse!" He moved forward, a fog of malice moving with him.

Vince flailed for something. Anything. "Pidge, please, we can..." This couldn't be irreparable, could it? If anyone could fix the lion, it was Pidge. And Vince could help, try to atone for this mistake... "We can rebuild Green together! Better than before!"

He hadn't thought Pidge's expression could get more derisive; it did. "Oh, of course. _You're_ going to somehow help _improve_ on something so ancient and advanced, we still barely understand half of it. But that's okay, because you're a genius, right? Because you've got some mystic link to Voltron's past?" He sprang, landing on a charred piece of wreckage, glaring down at the cadet with pure venom in his eyes. "Let me tell you a little secret, Vince... there's more to being part of the Force than intellect and fairy tales!"

And there it was again. He'd been reminded of that fact before, hadn't he? Asked for the reminder in his arrogance, and hadn't learned his lesson... and now he'd lost a lion as well as a friend.

"...You're right." Vince hung his head, giving up on fighting the truth. "I just..." They hadn't really even chosen _him_ in the first place, had they? What had Lance called it? Guilt by association. _"_I was only even here because I was sitting near Daniel, anyway. _He's_ the special one, I'm just his..."

"Sidekick," Pidge sneered. "And not particularly good at that. So what are you going to do now that he's not here to save you?" His eyes glowed.

_Violet_.

Vince recoiled, as whatever was left of his composure shredded itself in his chest. "Pidge, your eyes, you're—"

"—Infected?" The glow faded, but the aura of menace did not. "Use that brain you're so proud of, Vince. Failed to stop that haggarium storm, didn't you? What did you expect to happen?" Suddenly Pidge smiled at him, but it was a dark smile that only intensified the frost gathering in his veins. "But really, it's not so bad..." He raised an arm and several throwing stars shot forward, but they glowed vivid purple, not green. "If you can figure out how to use it!"

_Oh, SNART._

Scrambling back as far as he could, Vince managed to avoid the stars, and they impacted on the asphalt with a wicked hiss—dissolving a few bits of scrap in a violet cloud. And then his back hit something large and solid. Turning to see what it was would be suicidal, but it didn't really matter, did it?

_No more room. Double snart_.

"Pidge, no... this can't be..."

"Oh, are you back to denial already? That didn't take near as long as I expected." Rather than advancing, Pidge jumped back, crouching on Green Lion's nose and smirking down at him. "Not that it matters now. I've already fixed your mistakes... as always."

Somehow that did not make Vince feel any better. For a moment—only a moment—he entertained the thought of asking what it meant, but then common sense returned and he jumped to his feet. His body was screaming at him to escape, to flee, that somehow things were about to get even worse and if he didn't run now he would regret it dearly...

Green Lion roared to life.

_MEGASNART._

Metal fragments pelted him, the lion spraying shrapnel as it rose. The golden glass of its eyes shattered, revealing purple sparks deep within the hollow sockets. Tubing still spilled from the great machine's guts and jaws, leaking hydraulic fluid, and yet it impossibly shambled forward—an image far more terrifying than the zombies they'd dealt with their last trip to Balto.

"What do you think of the modifications I've made?" Pidge inquired, sneering as Vince backpedaled. "I think it's a definite improvement... so you know? Maybe you're right. You break it... I rebuild it better than before... you and I _do_ make a good team!" He laughed as Green lurched forward, slamming one paw down on the street, massive claws missing Vince by a matter of inches. "Don't you think?"

The cadet answered the only way that seemed to be logical—he broke into a sprint, fleeing the horror behind him.

"No?" More dark laughter as the mangled lion pursued. "Spineless... just like always!"

Vince flinched at the truth of the words, but something was starting to bother him. Something else, rather. He knew Pidge's anger to be cold and almost subtle... this was all _wrong_. Too overt, reveling too much in the rage. _It looks like Pidge, but it doesn't _feel_ like him_... was it the haggarium? Or was it something else?

Did it matter?

_You have to fix this. Stop proving him right. Grow a spine and do what has to be done!_

_Even if it means fighting him?_

_Even then. You think he wants to be infected? You think he wants to be defiling his own lion? Not too likely! This is all your fault. Now are you gonna run from the mess you've made, or are you gonna fix it?_

Vince skidded to a stop, whirled on the lion bearing down on him. Stared up at Pidge, who was still on Green's nose, laughing and cloaked in haggarium fog. And steeled himself.

_You know what you have to do_.

Maybe he found some courage. Maybe he was just too afraid to run forever. Either way, Vince narrowed his eyes and charged, flicking his wrist to let the glowing energy tendrils sprout from his fingertips. The lion was moving, but it was slow—he'd been outrunning the thing, after all. And whatever the hell it was, this mockery of Green Lion was _not_ an improvement.

It had to have a weakness somewhere.

Pidge's laughter stopped abruptly. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Fixing my mess!"

"Oh really?" Another hail of violet stars blasted craters into the asphalt around him, but none struck true. "Think again!"

Vince zeroed in on a small panel low on the lion's chest, exposed but seeming mostly intact, and jumped with all his strength as a swipe from Green's claws passed just behind him. The dangling cables proved convenient; he grabbed hold of one with his left arm as his right pressed to the panel, energy tethers linking him to the lion's systems.

It was easy, almost too easy. A single command from mind to machine. _Break_.

Green Lion broke.

A line of small explosions stitched over the hull, wires and armor flying in all directions as the beast reared back and roared its fury. Pidge roared too—a beacon of haggarium rage, burning even as the violet sparks in Green's eyes dimmed. Vince tugged at the cable he was clinging to and swung away, his stomach dropping a bit as he took a flailing leap and managed to land more or less on his feet.

_Okay, that went better than expected._

He whirled on Pidge, knowing the battle was far from over, because the infection was still at full strength and he'd have to deal with that too, except Pidge was falling. Either an explosion or just the jolting had flung him from Green's nose, and he struck the pavement with far from his usual grace. Scrambled to stand, but it looked like the fall had twisted something. He stood and immediately went down again with a hiss of frustration.

Then the shattering lion collapsed squarely on top of him, and he gave a bloodcurdling shriek—and fell silent.

_No. No no no. _That_ wasn't supposed to happen! _

Vince stared, suddenly horrified all over again. After everything, despite everything, it wasn't... it _couldn't_ end like this, could it? He couldn't even entirely process it. One thing for Green Lion to be lost. Another for Pidge to be...

A voice, seeming to echo from everywhere. Hunk's voice. "Vince! Talk to me, buddy!" He blinked, mind seizing on the words, taking one last look at the motionless body pinned beneath the wreckage...

...And woke in Green Lion's cockpit, which was fully intact.

* * *

It had all been fairly simple after the nightmare, really. Just another robeast. Find a strategy, pierce the storm, take it out. He'd taken charge despite still reeling himself—or perhaps because of it. Needing to prove he could do it, to himself... and to someone more important, someone who'd come running up as soon as he made it into the outpost's command center.

"Genius moves out there!"

Vince returned the high-five warily. Waiting for some harsh followup, a violet spark in those emerald eyes. But none came. Pidge's expression shifted, to be sure, but it wasn't to hostility at all.

"Vince, what's wrong?"

There was _worry_ in that verdant gaze. There should not be worry, Vince decided. He wasn't worth worry... not from Green Lion's true pilot, the one who _really_ deserved that seat. The one he hadn't been able to save in a dream, who'd died because of _his_ mistakes... "Nothing. Just still a little shaky. You know. Tough fight."

For a moment that felt like forever, Pidge just looked at him. Searching. Then he sighed and nodded. "Right. If you say so. Nice work today." He turned away, going back to his consoles, his skepticism clear. And maybe something else. Maybe... disappointment.

_He knows you're lying. Should've told him._

_No. You gave up the right to whine to him about nightmares a long time ago._

Aching for what had once been, the friendship he'd failed to be worthy of, Vince headed over to Keith for debriefing. A quick glance at Daniel and Larmina confirmed what he already knew; the dreams would be kept to themselves.

Always.


	4. Ascending

**Breakdown: Ascending**

_Takes place after Army of One._

* * *

Vince woke with a start, certain it had all been a dream.

He glanced around his room, listening to Daniel snoring lightly in the top bunk, looking for the thing that would confirm his suspicions. Prove that he was still a cadet, not...

His voltcom was on his dresser, shut down and disabled for the night, but the dimmed channels of energy still bore a soft green tint. It hadn't been a dream. It had _happened_. Pidge had given him Green Lion's key, not for a few hours of training, not for any specific mission... but for... for good?

_Oh, holy snarts..._

Yesterday it had been exhilarating, to be given a place on the team. Today, staring at the voltcom in the proverbial cold light of dawn, it was terrifying. And something kept tugging at the back of his mind, something he'd shoved away into a dark little corner where he didn't have to think about it the day before. Something that would no longer be denied.

A sense of unworthiness, personified in the cadet he still shared a room with. Daniel was right. He was a far better pilot than the other two cadets, why would he be the one left behind? Was it just because he felt himself destined for Black Lion, the leader? Was it the infection?

_But they don't even know about the infection!_ Vince strapped the newly green voltcom on, the key within it seeming to weigh the device down. A responsibility, a vast one. He wasn't just a cadet goofing around with his friends anymore, was he? He was a member of the Voltron Force, full and true.

He couldn't keep this secret anymore.

But how could he tell? How could he do that to Daniel when this was his own fault? If he hadn't made that stupid mind-link device, his friend never would've been infected in the first place. Daniel was already suffering for his arrogance. He had no right to make it worse... and yet, he had no right to keep it from the others, did he? How was he ever supposed to get out of this corner he'd backed himself into?

This wasn't helping his nerves at all...

Vince went looking for Pidge.

Finding a ninja wasn't exactly the easiest task in the world. Sure, he could've called him. That was sort of what voltcoms were for. But the thought of using the device, of seeing those lines traced in glowing emerald over his wrist, made him pause. Better to just... wander and hope. It gave him time to figure out what he wanted to say.

What could he possibly say?

Maybe it wasn't about saying anything at all. Maybe he just wanted to give Green Lion's true pilot the chance to realize he'd made a terrible mistake.

Pidge was in the gym, calmly dismantling SimuLotor. Vince stood and watched for a few minutes, trying to learn, though he'd long ago given up hope that he would ever master melee combat. Wishful thinking. Still he watched, because if he was going to uphold this responsibility, this honor, he ought to at least _try_ to study all angles of the job.

Focusing on the actions also helped distract from what Pidge was wearing: a Baltan chameleon suit, rather than his green uniform. That made the situation more real, but it couldn't be real. Not with how many times he'd let his mentor down... and was still letting him down, though he didn't know it. Couldn't know it, since Vince was too chicken to _tell_ him.

He'd actually never seen Pidge in one of the camo suits, other than... in a dream... he swallowed that thought back, throat suddenly very dry.

It would probably be a good idea to say hello. But if he said hello then Pidge would answer him, and they'd start talking, and maybe he should just turn around and go back to his room, shut up and value this amazing gift he'd been given.

No, no. That was Daniel's way of thinking. Vince knew better. Green Lion wasn't a gift, it was a duty. And the first step in upholding that duty was to not be a coward.

"...Hey Pidge?" He didn't sound very brave. He sounded the opposite of brave. But he'd gotten the words out, so that was a start.

"Vince! I was wondering if you were going to say anything." Oh. Well that figured. Of course he'd been noticed already... Pidge shut off the sim, turned to look at him, and gave a faint smirk. "Don't tell me those are your workout clothes."

Looking down, Vince realized he'd gone charging off to have a serious discussion in his pajamas.

"Uh."

Pidge hesitated, his amused expression fading. What was he expecting? To slip into the same old small talk? Sometimes it seemed like it; he was still as cheerful as ever around Vince, as if that moment in the hangar had never happened. And yet his cheer seemed to skip coolly off of the young pilot, rather than warming and welcoming as it once had.

"...Okay." A sigh. Disappointment again? "Something's obviously bothering you, so what's on your mind?" Disappointment, no doubt. Which was only reasonable, really. Reassuring weak teammates at six in the morning wasn't really part of his job description.

_Get it over with and stop wasting his time._

Flicking his wrist, Vince let his flight suit materialize from his voltcom. And even though he was expecting it, even though he'd spent the last hour dwelling on the fact, seeing that flight suit turn up as _green_ jarred for a moment. "This," he said quietly, gesturing to the uniform. That seemed like as good an answer as any.

Nod. "Kind of figured. Still adjusting, huh?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"It's your first full day." Grin. "Give it time."

"Yeah, maybe." Maybe he was right, maybe it would just take time, maybe... _stop that._ _Spit it out. _"Look, Pidge. Are you sure about this?"

The question seemed to hang in the air between them, dark and heavy. It had to be asked, but that meant it had to be answered. He wasn't sure he wanted it answered, because he wasn't sure what answer he _wanted_. Yes would be terrifying, but no would be agonizing...

"Hm." Pidge leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms, expression shifting from curiosity to deadly serious. "Well, I don't know, Vince. Let me think about it. I'm trusting you with my lion—I'm still bound to Green whether I'm flying it or not, you realize—not to mention the lives of the team, pretty much the only family I've got." His voice sharpened a little, though it didn't seem to be anger, just emphasis. "Do you really think I'd have given you that key if I _weren't_ sure?"

A little shudder ran through Vince, the voltcom's weight seeming to increase further. _When he puts it like that..._ "I wish _I_ was that sure."

Pidge gave a quiet laugh. "Maybe it's better that you're not. Arrogance gets people in trouble."

Oh. Yeah. That was very true, and he'd learned it so well, and he couldn't prevent flinching a little at the reminder. He thought there was a flicker of concern in his companion's eyes when he did so, but it was probably just wishful thinking. "That's for sure. But there's a difference between arrogance and wondering if I'm a worthy repl..." No, he was not going to say replacement, he was _not_. Nobody could replace Pidge. "...successor at all, right?"

Pidge gave him a piercing look. "What's to wonder about? You're a great pilot, you know that. And your powers are too valuable to keep you shut up in the castle; we need you on the front lines a lot more than we need me there." Shrug. "I can do scans and tactics anywhere. And like you said, if I'm going to keep upgrading things so the rest of you can't keep up... makes no sense to re-train you every week. Logic."

"Right." That was actually a little disappointing, irrational as the feeling was. Of course it was detached calculation at the heart of this. That was how it had to be, and it was silly to hope for anything... warmer. "All perfectly... logical, huh?"

To his surprise, that actually seemed to make Pidge hesitate. "Vince, it's not..." He sighed and looked away, eyes darting over the sim consoles before returning to his companion. "...Do you have to make this more difficult?"

Vince grimaced. He wanted to say he hadn't meant to, but of course he had. Though he hadn't expected it to _work_. "Sorry."

"Don't be. You've got a point." Pidge shook his head, sighed again. "We probably should've at least discussed this a bit more first. It just seemed so obvious out there in combat, you know? Seemed like it would be so simple. Harder now when I stop to really think about it, but the facts remain what they are. It's better this way." He looked up again, smiling sadly. "Remember what I told you before? My ultimate loyalty is to the Voltron Force. I've got to do what's best for the team, no matter how hard it is. Even if it means stepping down."

For some reason the words hit hard. Brutally hard. Perhaps because Vince couldn't help hearing something else echoed within them. Not just an echo—a contrast.

_You CAN'T tell anyone about this. They'll kick me off the Force!_

Staring at Pidge, he started to open his mouth, searching for words. He had to let Daniel's secret out now, didn't he? How could he possibly be selfish enough to hold this information any longer, how could he show any less loyalty to the _team_ than his mentor was displaying right now?

But the words wouldn't come.

"I..." He shivered. Couldn't help it. "Thank you, Pidge. I'll make you proud."

Amusement sparked in those green eyes. "Future tense?"

Those words should have made him feel good. He was pretty sure of that. But they really only made his stomach churn.

_You have no idea, Pidge. No idea._ He nodded, swallowing a new protest before it could form, and left the gym.

_So what now, genius?_

He had the mental link to Daniel... that was something. He could use it. Keep his friend under control, help him like he had against Lotor. That would have to be enough...

Somehow, some way, he _would_ make up for his mistakes. He wouldn't fail again.


	5. Repairing

**Breakdown: Repairing**

_Takes place after the main events of Black (disregard the final scene for now...)_

* * *

Vince woke on one of the castle's observation decks, head pounding.

The victory celebration had gone well into the night, or if one wanted to be technical, well into the morning. Even Keith had put in an appearance. Hell, he'd even managed to convince Daniel to join in, in the interests of proving the team wasn't giving up on him...

Vince had snuck out early, very early. He didn't want to celebrate. Oh sure, they'd just destroyed the last known source of evil in the galaxy... but they'd thought that after Doom, too, hadn't they? Big deal. Something else would come up. Something always did.

Besides, it had been close, much too close, and all due to his own cowardice. What right did he have to celebrate?

Stretching with a soft moan of pain—still sore from the battle, and sleeping on the balcony hadn't been one of his brightest ideas—he made his way back into the castle, and immediately became aware that the stupid party was _still_ _going_. Maybe he hadn't slept very long. Maybe Hunk and Lance were just going overboard. Either way, he wanted no part of it.

He checked his voltcom. Four in the morning. Yeah, they were going overboard. On the bright side, though, this was the castle. The castle which had been _flown to Earth_, which he ought to be geeking out a lot more over. Maybe later. Right now he just wanted to go lock himself in his bedroom and sleep until he forgot everything about the battle. Of course, he still shared a room with the person he was trying hardest not to think about... yeah, that probably wouldn't go as planned.

Instead he wandered aimlessly, trying to banish all thoughts from his mind, avoiding the noise of the party as best he could. Eventually he found himself in the gym, and went a couple of rounds with SimuLotor before concluding no, even in _this_ mood, he didn't feel like getting pounded into the floor by a hologram. Better find something else...

"Vince?"

He jumped, startled, falling back to sit on a console. Hadn't expected anyone to come track him down here. Certainly not... "Hey, Pidge. Why aren't you at the party?"

One slim eyebrow arched at the question. "Why aren't _you_ at the party?"

Okay, so he'd completely left himself open for that. "Just wanted to take a break... find some space, you know?" He couldn't meet Pidge's eyes, though staring at the floor wasn't a whole lot better. Catching glimpses of his own uniform. Green.

Part of him still said he would never get used to it. Another part, a stronger part, said now he wasn't going to have to.

_You know what you have to do._

Pidge's gaze remained locked on him, he could feel it without looking. "Vince, what's bothering you? Is it Daniel?"

_Is it Daniel. What a question._ "Yes." But he knew how the question was meant, knew how his answer would be interpreted, and shook his head as soon as it was out. "No. Not like that. I..." He took a deep breath, looked up. Stood up. "Pidge. I need... I want you to..." _Say it. You're gonna lose your nerve. Say it right now. _"You need to take this back." He slipped Green Lion's key out of his voltcom.

Pidge frowned. Making no move to take the key, he crossed his arms and studied the young pilot for a few moments, the cadet who'd replaced him. Shouldn't he be jumping at this? Giving up Green Lion _hadn't_ been so easy for him, no matter how well he seemed to be taking to his new role. Why was he just standing there? Why not nod happily, take the key, and let it go?

"Explain."

Which was precisely what he'd hoped Pidge would _not_ say...

_You KNOW what you have to do._

He took a deep breath. Forced the words from his throat, though each one felt like spitting up a ball of razor blades from his chest. "I'm... not... worthy." He closed his eyes, the only way to escape the emerald gaze boring into him. "This was all my fault... I've been lying to all of you... and it nearly destroyed everything!"

The silence became nearly complete. Nearly—the roaring thump of his heartbeat was drowning out any other sound that might have surfaced, hammering almost painfully in his chest as he waited for a reaction. Perhaps... a judgment.

But the reaction was not coming quickly. Pidge just looked at him, seeming more confused than anything, the words certainly not sparking the anger they ought to have. And finally he spoke, repeating a single word, his quiet voice cutting easily through the thunder in Vince's ears.

"Explain."

Snart. He shook his head frantically, looking for words. Explain? There was no explaining this. "No... no no no. Just..."

"Vince." Pidge pushed the hand offering the key back, then crossed his arms again. "You know I'm not even entertaining the _possibility_ of this unless you tell me why."

Of course not. "...Because I knew, Pidge! I mean, I should've known. I..." He hesitated a moment. Daniel was in enough trouble as it was. To spill this, even after the fact... but... no. No. He sighed, understanding the truth, painful as it was. He'd covered for his friend too much, despite his better judgment, and look where it had gotten them. Maybe this would be the end of their friendship, but there were more important things. This charade had gone on far too long already, and he couldn't take it anymore.

"Pidge... look, let's... let's sit down, okay?"

"...Of course." Pidge dropped to the floor, drawing one knee to his chest and watching Vince with that piercing, searching gaze... Vince was still pretty sure that look could rip any secret out of him, if it just settled on him long enough.

He wished he'd invited it a lot sooner.

He wished it would just go away.

_You know what you have to do. You KNOW. Now if there's any part of you that still deserves to be on this team at all, spit it out!_

"About Daniel. He... that time when his brain got stuck in Voltron... he got infected with haggarium." Pidge's eyes widened and he drew in a sharp breath, but Vince forged ahead. It was started now—best to open the floodgates and let it all go. He closed his eyes. "He and I ended up with a telepathic link too, I guess because I was fighting in his brain. He kept getting worse, I was trying to keep him under control, and that's how we were able to share voltcom powers the day the army of Lotors attacked..."

The day the army of Lotors attacked.

The day he'd been given the key to Green Lion.

The day he _should_ have told Pidge everything.

"...but I wasn't the only one he had a mind link to. That Lider-thing infected him, so he was able to get glimpses what it saw. _That's_ how he knew it teamed up with Lotor. Not my equipment, I was lying to cover him. And that's how he was able to take down the Lotor-Lider on Doom... it wasn't because he was good at tactics, it was because he could read its mind." Vince dared to meet Pidge's eyes again, blazing with shock and a thousand other things he couldn't identify. Didn't want to identify. "Defeating them cured his infection. But he got Black Lion... you all thought he earned it, but he lied his way into it—_we_ lied his way into it. But I still couldn't make myself say anything. And he didn't deserve it, and look what happened!"

This time the silence truly was complete. His heart was no longer pounding so furiously; he was pretty certain it had stopped. Pidge was no longer looking at him but _through_ him, fists clenched, visibly reeling from what he'd been told. For his part Vince felt... numb. No relief at getting this off his chest. No fear of what was to come next. Just a strange sort of detachment as he watched his companion think.

When Pidge finally spoke, the words came slow and quiet. Feeling his way. "So our teammate—not to mention _your_ _best friend_—was infected with pretty much the essence of evil. For months. And you kept it from us?"

Yeah, that about summed it up. "He begged us—begged me to." _Don't let that slip, snartface. Don't drag Larmina in. She argued this so much more, she was so much better than you._ "He was sure he'd be kicked off the team otherwise, and... how could I go against that?" Vince gave him a helpless look. "How could I just turn my back on him when it was my fault he got infected in the first place?"

That seemed to break through the shell of Pidge's shock, at least a bit; he raised an eyebrow. "Your fault? How in the world was _that_ your fault?"

"Because." He searched for some fragment of courage, looked up. "It was my mind-link device that put his brain into Voltron. That's why he got infected. That's why _all_ of this happened." For a moment he managed to meet Pidge's gaze with something close to defiance. "If I hadn't been so arrogant, everything would've been fine! And ever since then..." _Say it. Admit it_. "...I've just been covering my own ass instead of admitting how bad I really messed up." He shook his head. "I even thought I'd come up with a cure for him by myself. You were right all along, Pidge. I wasn't really thinking, I just acted like all I needed was... intellect and fairy tales. Just like you said."

Hesitation. "When did I ever say that?"

Vince blinked, flashing back to the street on Balto, cowering amidst Green Lion's wreckage, every detail of the memory painfully seared into his mind. And yet the memory wasn't reality. Only a nightmare. A nightmare he didn't dare speak of, didn't have the right to bother Pidge with, but now he'd walked right into this...

_Oh now you've gone and done it_.

"Okay, maybe you didn't use those exact words, but..." Pidge just _looked_ at him and Vince's brief spell of courage faltered; he looked away again. _May as well get it ALL out_. "I mean... okay, it wasn't you. Not really. That haggarium storm we got caught up in at the deep space outpost? It didn't just knock us out. It gave us nightmares. Mine, I'd wrecked Green, you came after me for it..." His eyes moved to his voltcom, the emerald energy glowing there. "You were infected, and so angry... and you reminded me how... unworthy I was." Sigh. "And the dream was right, I just couldn't admit it."

"...I see." Something was dawning. He could hear it in Pidge's next breath, a shallow sound of understanding, things starting to come together. Except when he spoke, it was the last thing Vince could have expected to hear. "Is that nightmare why you don't talk to me anymore?"

_Huh? _He wasn't supposed to ask _that_. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, please. You've been avoiding me for months unless team business is involved. You don't really think I haven't noticed, do you?"

Of course he thought no such thing. It hadn't ever been about not noticing. "No, I don't mean that, I mean..." What did he mean? No, he knew what he meant, just not how to say it. "I haven't been talking to you because I don't _deserve_ to."

Frown. "Did the dream say that, too?"

"It didn't have to." Vince kept his gaze locked firmly on the floor. "You didn't have to. You kinda put me in my place loud and clear after that mind-link fiasco. Remember?"

Pidge blinked. Stared. If he'd been shocked to hear about Daniel's infection, this seemed to have hit twice as hard, judging from the disbelief that flared in his eyes. "No... don't tell me that, don't tell me you... you've been dwelling on _that_ for... this long?" His voice was edged with something Vince might have called horror if he hadn't known better. "Vince, I never meant..."

It was Vince's turn to be shocked, and he blurted his next words without thinking. "Are you kidding me? What did you expect after practically ripping my head off, Pidge?"

As soon as he heard the words that had just surged out of his mouth, he regretted it. Now he was in for it. Rightly so, of course, just like the last time... he swallowed hard, daring to glance up for a moment, to at least try to meet this face to face.

Only to find Pidge wasn't looking at him at all, eyes closed, fists clenched in silent focus. A whispered response, barely audible. "...You're right."

_Huh?_ He wasn't supposed to say that, either. He was really not being very cooperative about this at all. "Wait, what? No I'm not, I—"

"—Of course you are." Pidge gave him that look, that piercing look that allowed for no argument, no questions. "Maybe I have known why... just refused to acknowledge it. I _didn't_ mean for that to happen. You learn, you move on..." He sighed. "But that's so much easier said than done, isn't it?"

Oh.

Well then.

_You learn, you move on..._

For awhile—a long while—Vince just sat there and let those words sink in. Flailing against them, trying to find some reason they couldn't be accurate, it couldn't be that simple. But all those efforts came up blank. That was exactly how Pidge had acted. Never mentioning the incident again, reaching out as he always had. Assuming it was in the past, the lesson was over and done with. Because that was exactly how Pidge _was_. That same trait Vince had so admired, his ability to shrug things off, let them go...

Did he just assume everyone must be like that? Did he not realize it was special?

"Yeah," Vince agreed when he realized his companion was waiting for an answer. "It's not that easy at all."

"Of course not. I know you better than that. Lashing out at you was never going to help anything." Another sigh. "I just... how was I supposed to react? That device. The concept wasn't even the problem. You just went off and started poking at Voltron _without_ me."

Vince cringed. "And I never should've, I just wanted to prove I could do something on my own, team or no team. It was stupid, it—"

Pidge gestured for him to stop. "And I had no idea that's what you were thinking. I was afraid I'd done something wrong. Something that stopped you from trusting me. That..." Suddenly his voice became very soft. "That _hurt_, Vince. So I went off at you... and apparently accomplished exactly what I'd been afraid of!"

_...What?_

The whole world seemed to fall away. Only a word remained. Echoing.

Hurt.

Hurt?

After all his failures, all his fears... all the betrayals of trust, all the petty doubts... he had finally managed to wound his hero. And he hadn't even _realized_ it. Not even when Pidge proved what Vince had been learning all along. That realization he'd found so fascinating, yet forgotten in one moment of cold fury.

_He's not just a hero. He's more human than you know... you hurt him. And he lashed out as blindly as anyone._

As if reading his thoughts—something Vince wouldn't really put past him right now—Pidge offered a slow, sad smile. "Even I make mistakes every once in awhile... I'm sorry, Vince."

Vince stammered. This wasn't how this discussion was supposed to go at all. None of this was going as expected, as planned, as feared. _Pidge_ was apologizing to _him?_ That was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard of. "Why are you apologizing? I'm still the one that screwed it all up!"

"And I made it worse. So I'm apologizing." Though his voice remained soft, it had taken on that same fierce note as his eyes. There would be no argument on this.

Maybe he didn't need to argue. Maybe he needed to do something entirely different. To take responsibility for the one thing he hadn't realized he'd done wrong, the one thing that had truly thrown everything off track. "I... I'm sorry too," he whispered.

Pidge blinked and looked away. Were his eyes a little brighter than normal when he looked up again, or was it just an odd trick of the light? Vince didn't know... and he wasn't quite certain it mattered. Whatever it was, it faded quickly. "Are we... okay, then?"

Were they okay? What a question!

There was only one possible answer, wasn't there? Of course they were. They _had_ to be. "Yeah. We're okay. I mean at least, uh, I'm okay if you're okay."

A grin. "Then we're okay."

The relief that washed over Vince was enough to almost make him forget why they'd actually started this discussion. Almost. And though he wanted to just bask in this resolution, try to comprehend all that had just happened, duty was still a concern. No sense getting right back into bad habits. "So... what about Daniel?"

Pidge considered that for a bit. "You said you have a telepathic link with him. I could rant at you for keeping _that_ from us for another hour, but honestly I think you've been punished enough for the moment... though you realize discipline isn't really my job. But the team needs to know. The sooner the better."

Vince nodded. He'd known that was coming, and couldn't have argued the point even if he'd felt he had a right to. The tactical advantage alone was immense—they'd proved that already in all the wrong ways, hadn't they? "Yeah."

"You and Larmina have double radar duty and patrols for the next month—don't give me that look. I heard you earlier, and even if I hadn't, I wouldn't believe for a _moment_ she didn't know about this."

_Snart._ "She... she protested a lot more than I did. She didn't want to go along with it..."

"That may be, but she _did_ go along with it. If you're so intent on taking more of a hit, though, _you_ can explain to her why you're both pulling extra duty." Pidge crossed his arms. "Also, Keith's asked for some modifications on Black Lion. You'll be helping me with those."

That last part didn't actually sound like a punishment at all. Part of him wanted to say so, but he knew perfectly well he wouldn't be saying anything his mentor—the one who'd spent hours upon hours in the hangar with him—didn't know already. But... "That's all?" he asked tentatively, when the silence started to become heavy.

Twin emerald suns pierced him, green fire that warmed and scorched at once. "That's all, other than whatever Keith decides to give you for keeping the mental link a secret... no. I'm not telling him about the haggarium. What good would it do? I think you've suffered plenty, and Daniel's gotten himself into more than enough trouble without the help of any haggarium at all. Harping on the infection after the fact won't change anything." Suddenly the flame went deathly cold. "And given that you will _not_ make a mistake like that _ever again_..."

It was impossible to meet that look without reeling; Vince recoiled a couple of steps. "No. Never."

And with that the ice was gone. "Good." Then a sigh. "Did you really think we'd kick him off the team just for being infected, Vince? We don't give up on our own that easily."

In all honesty Vince had never even considered that angle. Daniel had been so insistent on not letting the secret out. Something about his certainty had been so compelling. He'd had to be right about the consequences because he was so sure about the consequences, and everything else had spiraled from that. And yet...

"I don't know what I thought then," he admitted quietly. "But I know better than that now, too. I mean, if even after what happened _here_ you guys aren't giving up on him..."

"No, we're not." Pidge stood, pulled Vince up with him. "And we're not giving up on you, either. Put that away." He tapped the key, still clutched tightly in Vince's hand. "Whatever Daniel may or may not have done... _you_ earned that key. And we don't just kick people off the Force for mistakes."

_Clearly not. You learn, you move on..._

Vince smiled as he slipped the key back into his voltcom. "Thanks, Pidge. I... I'll make you proud."

A spark of amusement. Familiar, as the words were. "Future tense?" But this time the question didn't sting, didn't settle on his shoulders like a terrifying weight. Just the opposite. Something light and beautiful was welling up now, a returning hope. A returning _trust_.

They left the gym together.


	6. Salvaging

**Breakdown: Salvaging**

_Takes place after the final scene of Black._

* * *

Vince woke after only a few moments, dazed, but at least intact. But by then the fight was pretty much over. Red Lion had Black's tail clamped firmly in its fangs while Blue pinned its body to the ground, and Hunk was leaping from Yellow's jaws to go after Daniel himself. The odd part was that Daniel was no longer _in_ Black Lion.

Had the brief blackout lasted longer than he'd thought? No... checking Green's flight recording he saw he'd missed only about thirty seconds. And in those seconds after Black had struck him, it had spit Daniel right out of its gleaming jaws.

_The lions... seem to sense who's worthy of piloting them_... a slight shudder ran through him. Surely not. Surely after all he'd been through, all the good things he'd accomplished and all the problems that he'd caused, surely Daniel couldn't have finally exhausted the patience of the lions. Could he?

But then Vince looked more closely. Saw what he'd known instinctively had happened, even if he hadn't fully comprehended all the implications before Black pounced at him. Daniel's eyes were glowing blinding violet.

_...No..._

It shouldn't be possible. It _couldn't_ be possible. And yet there it was, and this time nobody could miss it. Least of all Hunk, who drew up short for a moment. Only a moment. Then he called his armor just as Daniel lunged for him, claws out.

Funny thing about charging Hunk was, it never worked very well. The big pilot didn't even have to do anything but stand and let Daniel strike, and the raging cadet went down as if he'd charged headlong into a brick wall. _Precisely_ like that.

"I've got him. Vince, give us a lift?" Hunk clambered into Green's cockpit with Daniel's unconscious form in his arms, while Blue and Red Lions eased the pilotless Black off the ground.

Everything was a blur after that. Vince would never quite be able to say how he got Green Lion back to its den, didn't remember taking the shuttle back to Control. He did distinctly remember watching Hunk run out of the room with Daniel, heading for the medical wing. And then a viselike grip wrapped around his arm and pulled him out as well, dragging him out into the hallway before the others returned.

Pidge. Oh, no.

How much had he seen? What must he be thinking? This was going to be horrible...

He made no attempt to resist as Pidge pulled him into a small conference room. He was saying something, too, but the words weren't getting through the fog... nothing really broke through until a sharp pain shot across his cheek.

"Ow!"

"I _told_ you it would sting."

He blinked, reality returning slowly. "What... huh?"

Frown. "...Maybe we should get you to the med wing too, if you're this disoriented, you might have a concussion—"

"—I don't have a concussion!" He actually didn't even have all that much of a headache, now that Pidge mentioned it, though he did remember banging his head pretty hard on Green's control console just before he blacked out. "Just... in shock. What are you doing to my face?"

"Cleaning your cuts off, they're nasty. And I don't want you bleeding all over my control room." A mild smirk as the castle's tactical officer got back to work; for the first time Vince realized he'd brought a first aid kit along, which was where whatever was stinging so badly had come from. "Anything else hurt?"

This was not where he'd expected the focus of discussion to be; he consulted with his body for a few moments. "Uh, not that I've noticed yet. Aren't you gonna yell at me?"

"Wasn't planning on it." He was quiet for a minute, finishing with the cuts. Vince wished he wouldn't be quiet. The sting of the disinfectant, harsh as it was, paled in comparison to the sting of thinking. Of going over what had happened. Then finally, "I know. Daniel's still infected. That's why he attacked you, why Black threw him out."

"Yeah... yeah. I didn't think he could be, not after Doom, not after... I mean, he didn't _feel_ infected anymore, in my head..." He looked up, momentarily entertaining the thought of trying to meet Pidge's eyes, but thought better of it. He didn't dare. "Pidge, I... I had no idea of this until just a moment before he came after us, it just surged, I wasn't covering for him again, I swear it, I—"

"I believe you."

"—could never do that to you guys again, I don't know how it happened but all of a sudden it was just there—"

"I said I believe you."

"—and at least don't punish Larmina, she couldn't have known anything, she—"

"Vince!"

Vince stopped as the yell finally broke through his panicked ranting. "...Um."

"Calm down." Pidge watched him quietly, letting him wind down, expression calm but not entirely unsympathetic. "I don't think you knew anything about this. Never said you did. But we have to tell Keith everything now, you know."

Snart. But of course he knew. "Yeah." Then a hesitation. "Wait... _we_?"

"We." Pidge packed up the first aid kit and set it aside. "And we may as well get it over with, I think. Let's go."

Swallowing hard, biting back a surge of fear, Vince followed. He'd been lucky to be spared this moment once before. Pidge was right. It was time to be brave now... to answer for what he should have answered for long ago.

They found Keith in Daniel's room in the med wing, looking at the unconscious cadet and shaking his head. "What happened out there?" he asked as they entered. "Hunk said it looked like he was infected with haggarium, but how could we not have known _that_ before now?"

Pidge cut his eyes away. "Yeah, um, about that."

Though he was vaguely aware that Keith had just given his companion a very dangerous look, Vince's attention was drawn by a slight motion from the bed. Daniel was coming to. Just barely stirring. Part of him wanted to flee—he hadn't really anticipated spilling Daniel's secret right in _front_ of Daniel. Yes, he'd convinced him that telling the others about their telepathic link was for the best. But this?

It had to be done...

"Yeah," he agreed softly, "about that. There's a little more to that mind link story, Keith. He, uh... he's been infected ever since then, we just thought it was—"

_VINCE! _The voice shot through his mind with the force of a thunderbolt, unheard and yet deafening, drowning out whatever comment Keith made in response. _What the hell are you _doing_, dude?_

Which was precisely why he would have rather done this somewhere else. _Telling Keith what's been going on. Everything. It's way past time, you know._

Fury. The fury surged in all on its own, with no need for words to carry it, but of course there were words as well. _No. You wouldn't dare. You can't do this to me!_

Vince grimaced, pain starting to surge in his skull as Daniel's rage poured in. Maybe he would have rather had a concussion after all. _Daniel, get out of my head!_

_NO! They'll kick me off the Force! You're only here because of me, you owe me!_

_Someone's got to help you if you won't help yourself! _And yet, gritting his teeth as the headache redoubled its intensity, Vince suddenly found his will faltering. Maybe Daniel was right, maybe they really would kick him off this time. How many chances did he get? And he'd been here too long, worked too hard, he didn't deserve...

A flicker of emerald light from Pidge's voltcom broke the spell. Or perhaps more to the point, the glowing knife he held to Daniel's throat did. "Daniel." He spoke in a furious whisper that demanded attention—though the cadet's violet eyes were already locked on him, suddenly glowing more with fear than rage. "For once in your life, think _very_ carefully about what you're doing, before I relieve you of the opportunity to regret it."

"...You wouldn't." Any confidence from Daniel's words was belied by the fact that he practically squeaked them.

Pidge's eyes narrowed. "Mistakes are one thing, but I have _no_ patience for traitors. Cross that line. I dare you."

Daniel's eyes flickered to Keith. Vince couldn't quite tell if it was a challenge or a plea for help; maybe a little bit of both. And either way he had to have a point, right? Even if he really was that far gone, surely the commander of the Voltron Force wasn't going to let one of his people execute a traitor in the middle of the freaking medical wing.

But Keith said nothing.

The four of them remained locked there, in a silent, deadly stasis, all attention focused on blazing emerald and glowing violet. This couldn't be happening... it was the haggarium speaking for Daniel, wasn't it? It had to be. Maybe he could help...

Maybe...

_Daniel_. He kept his mental 'voice' as calm as he could. _Daniel, listen to me. Don't do this to us, don't do this to _you_. They had to know. We should've told them a long time ago. How else are you ever going to be cured for real? If anyone can do it, Pidge can... but you've got to give him the chance._

The glowing eyes flickered over to him for a moment, a visible struggle for control taking place there. Then they went right back to the weapon pointed at him. _Uh, Pidge is kind of holding a knife to my throat. In case you hadn't noticed._

_Oh, I'm pretty sure noticed, dummy. And that's why you've got to fight it! This is what's going to happen if you aren't cured! Now come on, get yourself under control. I'll help you. Just work with me._

Daniel looked at him again, and gave a short nod. Very short. Much more of one and he'd have been hitting his chin on an energy blade, after all. Nodding in return, Vince focused himself. Reaching deep within, to that place inside of him where if he touched it just right, an energy would flare up... a power he still didn't fully understand, and probably never would...

His own eyes glowed, and the green lines on his voltcom briefly surged with pure white light, flowing into Daniel, banishing some of the haggarium fire from his friend's eyes. Not all of it, but some. Enough.

"...Okay," Daniel whispered, sinking back in the hospital bed. "I... I'm..."

An unmistakable flicker of relief crossed Pidge's face, and he banished the knife, retreating to stand next to Vince and squeezing his shoulder for a moment.

Despite the circumstances, despite it all, that gesture sent such pride bubbling through him...

Keith spoke immediately, utterly calm, as if his tactical officer threatened cadets' lives all the time. "Okay. Here's the plan. Daniel, we're going to have you sedated briefly—just long enough to find more secure arrangements for you. This is for everyone's safety, yours included. It is _not_ up for discussion. Understood?"

Daniel's eyes flared; Vince gave him a sharp mental poke, and he blinked. Nodded meekly. "Okay."

"You two come with me." Keith motioned to the other two, leading them out as an orderly administered the sedative. In the hallway his frosty blue eyes immediately locked on Pidge. "You had better have a _very_ good reason for this only coming to light now."

Pidge met his commander's harsh gaze evenly. "I didn't know myself until after the fact. And I assumed, since Black Lion allowed him to fly with no problems, that the infection really was gone. You remember Blue started to reject Sven over his pretty quickly." Shrug. "Daniel was already in trouble for the disaster otherwise known as his attempt at command... I saw no reason to kick him while he was down over something that couldn't be changed."

"I see." Keith's expression darkened. "That was _not_ your call to make, Tech Sergeant."

Vince blinked, looking between the two of them. _That escalated quickly. _When Pidge had chosen to keep that detail quiet, surely he hadn't had this in mind...

But he seemed entirely unconcerned by the scolding. "I suppose not. But would it have changed anything? Hindsight is what it is... you can't honestly tell me knowing _that_ would have made us anticipate _this_."

Keith scowled at him for a few more seconds, then sighed, expression softening. "You're probably right, and right now I have priorities other than reaming _you_ for something that can't be changed, also. Nonetheless. If anything like this ever happens again, I expect to be the _first_ to know." His commanding gaze took them both in, Green Lion pilots past and present. "Are we clear?"

"Quite."

"Totally clear." Vince said it, though he wasn't sure he meant it. Not entirely. Keith might not be the first to know... but he _would_ certainly know very quickly.

Pidge would probably be the first to know.

"Good." Keith shook his head, a wave of frustration seeming to replace any anger. "Damn. Okay. Sven said cold seems to slow the progress of the infection. I'll talk to Hunk about getting a room set up with a heavy-duty air conditioner, I suppose... Pidge, finding a cure is your job. Consider it your top priority."

"Of course."

"Then stop standing here and go do it." Keith walked away.

Vince grimaced, and was surprised when his companion snorted with laughter. "Yeah, he's still mad."

"Yeah, no kidding. That didn't seem fair. He was madder at you than he was at me!"

Pidge shrugged, started walking himself, motioning for him to follow. "When the decision stopped with me, so did the responsibility... I can deal with that, though I stand by my reasoning." He cast Vince a sidelong glance. "Would you rather have been yelled at more? I can give you another lecture on it if that would make you feel better."

Blink. "Uh, no. That's okay." Something in his tone... Vince asked the question the words had sparked and hoped he wouldn't regret it. "You uh, still stand by it, huh?"

"Mmhmm." Nod. "And I'd make the same decision a hundred more times."

Well that was interesting. It also seemed rather _off_. "Uh, not to tell you your business or anything, but didn't he just tell you _not_ to make it again?"

"Yeah, he did. Won't be the first time I've ignored him. Probably also not the last. Or did you think cadets have a monopoly on ignoring the commander?"

Actually yes, he had. Though looking back he was starting to realize that was a pretty silly thing to think. Sure, Daniel had usually been the one who disobeyed orders most spectacularly, with Larmina and himself not far behind... but the others _did_ have their moments, didn't they? "I uh... guess I just didn't expect you to be quite that open about it. I mean, how can you say that like it's so easy?"

"Because it is easy." He stopped at one of the observation decks, leaning on the railing, looking out over the desert. There wasn't much to see; a wind was picking up, stirring the sands into the sky. "Because we're the Voltron Force."

Vince frowned. "I don't follow."

Pidge looked back at him, frowning also, an expression of deep focus. "The Alliance military demands unquestioned obedience, and really that's the only way a large unit can work. But when you reach a certain level... things change. We're different. Loyalty is absolute, but orders? Sometimes not so much."

Joining him at the railing, staring into the sands, Vince started to ask a question then stopped. So _many_ questions came from those words. Where to even start? "But then...?"

"It's simple, really. Simple, and yet so complicated... because Black Lion may be the Alpha, but he is also the first among equals." A nod to the castle spire, the lead lion's resting place. "That's why Daniel failed, what he didn't understand. The commander can be wrong, and has to accept that sometimes his team knows better. You follow your orders, but also trust your judgment... and sometimes when they don't line up, you take your own initiative." Suddenly his gaze sharpened, driving into Vince like verdant ice. "Never lightly, because you have to be ready to accept the consequences, for better or worse. And never without absolute confidence, because your team's lives depend on you getting it right."

It all made so much sense, when he put it like that. And yet... "That sounds like it should make for chaos."

"Doesn't it?" A soft laugh. "It sounds like insanity, to put it like that. But it's no more madness than going out into battle in the first place." His voice became very low, distant. "To make this decision that you trust these people, your team, so completely. You put your life in their hands every day, and you trust their judgment... sometimes perhaps more than your own." That same laugh again, soft, thoughtful. "Which may be a kind of insanity in itself."

Vince would have loved to be able to see the look on his face. It must have been something, because Pidge abruptly seemed to remember himself, and looked over the railing again. "...Sorry. That too much?"

"No, not at all." Maybe too much to take in all at once, but certainly not too much to hear. To know. "Just thinking... how much I still have left to learn."

Pidge gave another quiet laugh. "You always will be. We always are."

"Yeah... I guess you're right." He allowed himself a bit of a smile, remembering the last mission on Earth. Lance's words as Black Lion's head launched into battle. _Now _I_ feel like the newbie! _It was true, wasn't it? There was _always_ something more to learn about Voltron, and about its pilots... and those who stood in the shadows, no longer piloting, but no less part of the team for that fact.

They left the balcony, walking in silence for a minute. A comfortable silence, yet there was more on Vince's mind. Learning was important... and was why he dared to ask the next question, though he wasn't entirely certain he wanted an answer.

"Pidge?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you really have killed Daniel back there?"

Pidge flinched. Looked over at him. Went deadly silent, just long enough for the truth to sink in, to let the haunted ferocity in his eyes tell the story. Then he shrugged and looked away. "I'm glad I didn't have to find out."

That was a yes.

It was impossible to suppress a shudder, but that was all there was. To his surprise he found he wasn't surprised. Not really. It was who Pidge was... so easygoing, but step over the wrong line, and... "Loyalty is absolute, huh?" he echoed softly.

"Exactly." Sigh. "And so long as you have that, most other things can be forgiven. Mistakes happen. You can learn from those, get better. Betrayal... is the one unforgivable."

That made sense, as far as it went. Which brought Vince to his next question. "How far does it go? I mean, I don't want to give up on him, I'm just wondering. He does seem to make a _lot_ of mistakes."

"You think we were any better when we first got here?" Emerald eyes lit on him, amused, then returned to the desert. "What the hell am _I_ going to say about discipline? I think we'd been on Arus for maybe three hours when I decided hey, I'm a ninja, I can go take on the entire Doom army against orders. Daniel hijacked Black Lion and nearly got everyone killed? Big deal, Allura did it first. And Lance, don't get me _started_ on Lance." He shook his head. "If we kicked people off the team for doing stupid things, we wouldn't _have_ a team. But we get by... we pull through... because this is what we are."

_This is what we are._

Vince nodded. He could deal with that, though it seemed to defy logic. Because Pidge was right. It worked out. And if Pidge, of all people, could take something so illogical and accept it as proper...

"So... Daniel. What are the chances of curing him?"

"Hard to say. I've been working on a cure anyway. For Sven—plus it seemed like something that would be a good idea on general principles. It's not going excessively well, but should get quite a bit easier with a test subject handy."

Something in Vince protested hearing Daniel described as a _test subject_. "Isn't that a little harsh?"

That got him a confused look, then a frown. "You know what I meant."

"Yeah. Sorry." He shook his head. "I didn't really make any progress on finding him a cure either, back when, you know, we were keeping everything a secret. Didn't really even know where to start, other than with my powers... I mean, chemistry's not my strongest point. That's what this would be, right? Some kind of weird mystical chemistry?"

"Yeah, pretty much." Pidge motioned for him to follow. "And to be honest, chemistry isn't exactly my first love either. But since it has to be done... this seems like a perfect time for you to start learning."

Vince paused for a moment, looked over at him. "You... you want my help?"

It was a silly question. He was sure of that the moment he asked it. Of course Pidge wanted his help, his powers were probably the key. All very logical, right?

But that wasn't how he answered. Instead he smiled. "Always."

Following, Vince felt himself returning the smile, not letting himself doubt any further. This was how it was. How it should be.

It was all going to be okay.


	7. Reuniting

**Breakdown: Reuniting**

_This isn't based on any canon incident, just started with a logical flaw that bugged me and a little scene I couldn't get out of my head... Vince and Pidge told me to run with it. And who am I to argue with my characters? And thus ends this little excursion.  
__Thanks to everyone who's read, and extra thanks to everyone who's reviewed!_

* * *

Vince woke in the med wing, and immediately regretted it. Everything hurt. _Everything_. Body parts he didn't even know he _had_ hurt. And the worst part was he had no idea why. There was the robeast—he remembered that, where had that even come from? Remembered the lions skirmishing, then joining. After that it was all a blank.

A painful blank.

"Nngh... ow."

"Hey, about time! Welcome back." The voice from his right was cheerful, irreverent. Very Daniel. But even Daniel couldn't hide a note of concern in the words. "How're you feeling?"

"Like hell." He looked at his visitor, a little surprised that he was daring to be out and about. And also more than a little pleased—for him to risk ducking from his chill-blasted suite to come see Vince meant their friendship really _was_ on the mend. "What happened? The last thing I remember was forming Voltron."

"Oof." Daniel looked away for a moment. "Nothing? Oh boy. Uh. Well, the Robeast of Mystery kinda kicked the snot out of you guys for awhile. You went Yellow Center and got some hits in, but it didn't hurt it much. You and Larmina voltcom boosted, nothing. Then... uh." Frown. "I guess you must've done the full-on glowy golden boy thing because next thing anyone knew, the robeast was on fire and you were out cold. Whatever you did _worked_, but Green got slammed around some before Pidge could run out and take over."

Oh.

Okay then.

None of that sounded remotely familiar, but he could believe it... he winced as the last sentence sank in, then looked around the room to confirm what he was pretty sure of. It was just him and Daniel. "Pidge... where is he?"

Snort. "Off lecturing Hunk about being more careful—dude, you should've seen it, he went all kamikaze on the thing. It was epic until Voltron got punched in the face. He's about as banged up as you are." Daniel smirked. "I think Pidge is planning to come give you the same lecture when he's done there, but you weren't awake so Hunk got it first."

The look on his friend's face made it clear that Daniel didn't think that was something to look forward to, but Vince felt a little lighter. A lecture would be fine. Besides, it was a perfectly valid point. He'd been learning to moderate his powers already, but it was a thousand times more important now. Knocking himself out in combat was decidedly suboptimal; unleashing his full power while at Green's controls was right out.

And yet... something about that thought didn't sit well with him at all.

Daniel noticed. "Hey, you okay? You've got that 'I'm thinking too much' look on your face."

"Yeah, I... I mean no I'm not okay, I feel awful, but... I'm not thinking too much, I _need_ to think."

"Sure. Want me to go see if Pidge is done telling Hunk off?"

That would be good. No. That would be bad. "Not yet. Just hang here a minute and..." He sighed, gathered his nerve. _Look, Daniel. I need an honest opinion here._

Eyebrow raise. _Uh oh._

_Yeah, uh oh._ Asking this was really just asking for trouble, but Daniel was good at brutal honesty—maybe the best. That was what he needed. _I didn't earn my spot with my piloting, did I? I earned it because of my powers._

_...Dude._ Daniel's voltcom flared violently, a telltale sign that its energy was fighting a surge in his infection. His eyes flared for a moment to match, but then the surge was suppressed and he shook his head. _Why're you asking me? You KNOW it's your powers, you've said so yourself plenty, I kinda thought you were cool with that._

_I was._

Past tense.

Vince closed his eyes a moment, going over it all. So many things he'd done, so many battles he'd saved. Courage and skill had been involved, yes. But at the heart of it all was that mysterious energy that flowed through him, his ability to turn the tide through means far more mystical than a control rod and some sensors.

It had put him on the front lines, because that was logical. But suddenly he saw the hole in the logic, the flaw in the plan.

"Vince? Still with me?"

"Yeah." He looked over at Daniel again. Made his decision. Made it quickly, maybe too quickly, because he had to—he didn't dare stop to think, to talk himself out of it. Not when it was all so clear. "Actually, I do need to talk to someone else. Can you go get Keith?"

Violet eyes swirled with confusion. "Keith? Uh... yeah, sure. I can do that." He glanced at his voltcom. "And then I'd better get back to my room, I'm pushing it."

"Yeah, then you'd better. Thanks, Daniel..."

Vince was thanking him for an awful lot more than just going to get Keith, and it was clear _that_ wasn't lost on him either. He gave a slightly sheepish grin. "Sure, whatever. You hurry up and get yourself out of here, huh? You're no fun to harass when you're already down!" He ran off before Vince could find something to throw at him.

Throwing something would probably hurt him more than the target, anyway.

An orderly came to poke him and administer some painkillers as soon as Daniel left, and then Keith was there, looking stern as always. But he also looked more concerned than angry, and that was always a plus. "Hey, Vince. How are you doing?"

"Not so great, but I'll live." He took a deep breath. Best to spit it out before his commander could say anything about what had just happened. "Look, Keith... I need to give Green Lion back to Pidge."

The look on Keith's face at that was _priceless_. "...Okay, then. You've been awake for ten minutes, Vince, I think that's an extreme reaction."

It would sound like that, wouldn't it? But then again, there was some precedent for this... hadn't Pidge done it exactly the same way? Maybe it was a Green Lion thing. To make that decision so swiftly, but not thoughtlessly. It was so _obvious_. Why dwell on it past that? All any more thought could do was convince him to be selfish.

And maybe giving up a lion _had_ to be so abrupt, maybe to do it any other way was madness. Like ripping a bandage brutally from a wound rather than dragging it out into long, slow agony.

"It's not extreme at all, Keith. Didn't you see what happened out there? I've thought it through, trust me. And—"

"—And when were you going to ask _me_ about this?" Both jumped at the voice, then turned to face the wiry form standing in the doorway. "Because I'm pretty sure we don't just kick people out of their lions for mistakes. And I'm also pretty sure we've had this discussion before." Pidge walked in and shrugged. "You learn, Vince. Remember? You learn, you move on. But you're not going to learn anything by giving up."

Vince cringed. Somehow he hadn't expected having to explain this personally. If he could just convince Keith to order it that would be that, wouldn't it? ...Or not so much.

_You knew it wouldn't be that easy._

_You didn't really want it to be that easy._

_He needs to know WHY._

Yes, they'd had this discussion before, but for all the wrong reasons. This time it was different. This time he spoke from logic rather than fear.

Steeling himself, he met Pidge's eyes. "It wasn't the mistake, Pidge. It's my powers. Using them too much still drains me. And the tougher the enemy, the more power I have to use, the less I can do as a pilot right when it's needed most." Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and met that searching gaze calmly. Staring down his hero, his mentor, his friend... "_That's_ why I have to step down. I can't make the team choose between making full use of my powers, or full use of my lion. And nobody has to make that choice if I go back to just being a cadet."

_Go on. Argue with my logic._

But nobody was arguing. Keith just watched, apparently willing to let the two of them hash this out on their own—which Vince supposed was quite a compliment, actually. He'd have expected the commander to jump at the thought of having Pidge's skill and experience back in the cockpit.

Of course, maybe he was just reading the signs.

Pidge was quiet, looking for words for a minute, then sighed. Apparently the logical argument wasn't supplying itself, as Vince had known it wouldn't. "And you're absolutely sure about this?"

Okay, maybe he'd been hoping for a little more protest than that. But such thoughts were foolish, childish. _You know what you have to do... but this time for all the _right_ reasons._ "I'm sure." He tried for a confident grin, though he doubted he pulled it off as well as his opposite number could. "My loyalty is to the Voltron Force. I've got to do what's best for the team... no matter how hard it is... even if it means stepping down."

A pause. There was no way Pidge could miss the significance of those words, and when he spoke again it was in a soft tone that could almost be described as reverent. "Then how can I say no?" He pushed his sleeve up and flicked his wrist, letting his voltcom enter combat mode. It still glowed a soft green for him, though far less brightly than when it held his lion's key.

Vince pulled the key from his own voltcom, hesitated a moment. Feeling something strange... he'd expected to feel loss, resignation. Pain at giving up this honor he'd held all too briefly. And yet what he felt was pure calm. This... this was right.

This choice came from confidence, not cowardice. And it was a beautiful feeling.

With more effort than he really cared to admit, he pulled himself from the bed, standing before his mentor and snapping the key into Pidge's voltcom. "Okay. I'm ready."

Pidge nodded quietly, gripped his hand, and Vince focused. Not entirely certain how to do this, reaching within himself to find some instinct. And he knew.

_Go back, Green Lion. Back where you belong._

It was the same sensation—a rush of wind, a pulse of mystical energy even greater than when he used his own powers. A fog of emerald light reached out from his voltcom, pouring back into Pidge's, which lit as brightly as ever as his flight suit shimmered back into being.

But something wasn't right...

Vince looked down at his own uniform as the energy surge faded. Still green. So was his voltcom, though it had dimmed considerably. That wasn't how things were supposed to work, was it? This had happened before. With Daniel. His colors had gone back to gray, unbound, unmarked by the lion he'd been forced to surrender...

"Uh..."

Had the transfer failed? No, it couldn't have failed. One look at Pidge confirmed that. But then why...?

The answer came swiftly. "Why're you looking so surprised? Pretty sure this would be considered a reassignment, not a demotion. You don't just stop being the Green Lion, any more than I did." Pidge gave him a look that was half smile, half smirk. So very Pidge. "Besides, I really don't feel like I need a cadet tagging along with me forever... but I _could_ always use a copilot."

Vince blinked. Took a few moments for those words to sink in. Stared at Pidge, a smile starting to grow across his own face. Something about that word felt... right.

Not a cadet. A copilot.

Maybe almost... an equal...

"Wait, you mean... really?"

"Really." Pidge took Vince's hand in both of his, smiled softly. "No matter how logical... I know exactly how hard that decision was for you, Vince. And I'm proud of you."

The words sent his heart leaping impossibly. It might've actually jumped out and done a few laps around the med wing. But unlike so many times where his heart had pounded its way out of his chest before, this was... _wonderful_.

There was really only one response to make, and he made it before his better judgment could step in and convince him otherwise.

Vince hugged him.

Pidge gave a startled squawk of protest. "Oof—what have you been doing, taking secret lessons from Hunk?!" But he was laughing, and after standing frozen in surprise for a few moments, he hugged Vince back. Which actually hurt a little, given his bruises, but in that moment it didn't matter in the least.

Someone else was laughing also. "Would you two cut that out? You're going to give me cavities." Keith crossed his arms, but he was grinning broadly as the two Green Lion pilots jumped a little and pulled away from each other. "And this had better stick for a bit this time. I don't want to be watching another Green Lion key transfer another month from now, you got it? If it happens again I'm going to institute a waiting period of at least fifteen minutes after whatever fight made you change your minds."

Pidge rolled his eyes. "Understood, Commander. After all, _nobody_ else on this team would _ever_ play revolving doors with their lion. Right?"

Keith snorted. "You know what? Just for that, you can celebrate your return to active piloting status by running double patrols today."

"Is that supposed to be a punishment?"

Among the many other things that made him a good commander, Keith had a talent for knowing when he was beat, and he threw up his hands and stalked out of the med wing in mock exasperation.

Pidge snickered, then looked back to Vince. "I guess I'd better go do my new job. Uh, my old job. My new old... whatever. You get some rest, okay? Going to need you back in action as soon as possible."

"You got it." Vince watched him go, waiting for the old doubts to well up. For second thoughts and recriminations to come charging into his mind. But they didn't. Flopping back onto the lumpy medtech bed, all he felt was calm contentment washing over him.

Everything was as it should be.


End file.
